That’s what this thread is here for, in these stressful times, as @Tamsin_Bailey said!
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Another story from pet-minding land: was at my bestie’s, looking after her two dogs and the new cat while she and her two boys were on a quick trip to Central Australia. They live in an area where cats are banned from being outside at night. One of the dogs, Ruby, hunts Puss the cat. One night, Puss fled from Ruby out the sliding door to the deck. I locked Ruby in the laundry on the other side of the house, got the bag of cat treats and tried to coax Puss back in, in much the same way you describe. Finally put a treat on the floor just inside the sliding door, stupidly leaving it wide open. Puss cautiously came to the sliding door, stepped inside, snatched the treat… and streaked outside again 
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Fuck. My partner has a five-hours oral OP tomorrow on a short notice, sedated.
Hasn’t been in good health since last August, was posted several times due to this. Now a timeslot opened and had to be taken, otherwise it would mean waiting for next year (and facing some other health consequences).
I am scared.
This would even be problematic under non-pandemic circumstances. But right now, I’m really scared.
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I wish your partner luck, and also wish you the strength to support them.
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Thanks, @Nightflyer!
Mostly okay… still lucky enough to be able to hunker down at home. Feeling nervous about re-opening of my state, the country, though. And the election.
It’s weird how quickly things have come to feel upended.
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At least the re-opening of this thread should go okay. 
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I am still employed, family is healthy and garden is growing. What more is there to ask? As OK as we can be, I guess. My wife’s business is tanking terribly (not many big expensive weddings happening right now) but we can absorb that pretty easily. A very good time to review what is BIG stuff and what is small stuff, and try not to focus on the small stuff too much.
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Just an update on my situation for those who are self-employed and in the same boat as I…artists, gig workers, non-1099 self-employed, etc.
California came through with Pandemic Unemployment Assistance, or PUA this month. They have an average-based amount of $167 a week through the end of the year, but have also paid out the federal boost of $600 weekly through July 25th.
From what I understand, the House is preparing a follow-up with hopes that the Senate won’t kill it before implementation.
Personally, the CARES act has saved my bacon, considering how bad it could have been for a freelance artist to survive this period.
If you’re a busker, freelancer, waitstaff, etc. I strongly urge you to look into unemployment assistance, especially with the knowledge that there is still no timeline on a vaccine, and states reopening are likely to result in a resurgence of the coronavirus.
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That’s an unfortunate choice of acronym.
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Well, he is an artist. And he has to Pick Up his check at some point…
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He’s taken it back! 
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Still okay here, although my niece’s sister-in-law (like my niece — pregnant and about to pop) tested positive (I’m only learning now) in March. Her fever and cough back then yielded a recommendation to take Tylenol, to hydrate more, to rest, and to stay quarantined. I was told she’s much better now. Apparently, that episode further sensitized the eager-to-see-baby crowd back there; all were told that only contact via Alexa echo would be acceptable, and that if anyone didn’t like it, too bad. Good.
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In non-Corona related OK-ness news:
On Thursday, I twanged my old back injury while moving the boat around in the shed. Uncomfortable, but not too bad.
On Friday, I had to take the bike down the mechanic at Legana for its 30,000km service. The back was still sore, but the ride down was no problem (albeit cold; Tasmanian winter mornings).
I dropped off the bike, then headed out to walk to the nearby coffee shop to wait for them to finish.
I made it about fifty metres from the bike shop before my back muscles went into extreme spasm, crunching down on my damaged spine. This was sharp and painful enough to make me scream and drop to the ground like a shot horse, unable to stand back up.
Fortunately, a dude who was driving by saw me on the ground and stopped to help. I had him drop me at the coffee shop and waited an hour or so for it to settle down. Then, I tried to walk back to the bike shop.
Once again, I made it about fifty metres before my back exploded. This left me hanging onto a fence, with the scream-and-almost-pass-out back spasms reoccuring every thirty seconds or so.
Eventually, some people from the supermarket spotted me and called an ambulance. Once the ambos arrived, they dosed me up with painkillers and got me to Launceston hospital.
I spent the day in hospital, drugged up and being examined. Eventually they released me, but I had no way to get home.
Fortunately, the nice hippy lady who lives across the street was able to come and fetch me and bring me home.
So, now I have a couple of weeks’ worth of high-octane opiates to keep things manageable while I wait for my back to settle down. Bed rest and patience.
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As well as the Oxy during the day, they’ve got me dosed on Lyrica at night.
I think this is designed to stop me from moving and triggering the back spasms in my sleep. It’s working, but the side effect of sleeping without movement is pressure injury to the parts I’m sleeping on: my hipbones feel like they’ve been hit with a cricket bat.
Another unfortunate feature is that, as I wake up, I tend to instinctively yawn and stretch in a way that triggers the back spasm…right at the time when I am least medicated. So, I wake each morning with intense pain and a scream.
Fun fun fun.
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On a brighter note:
- Cost of hospitalisation = $0.
- Cost of medication = $15.
- Cost of ambulance ride = nothing so far, although I may get a small bill for that later on.
At no point did anyone in the ambulance or hospital ask for any insurance details. They didn’t even ask for proof of ID.
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Shit mon, dat sucks!! Rest well. And yes, lucky you to at least be living in a place with a humane healthcare system.
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The Oz version of healthcare problems:
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The doc at the hospital initially wrote the Oxy and Lyrica prescriptions on a single piece of paper. Due to drug-war bullshit, Oxy is not allowed to be prescribed in combination; it has to be done on a separate prescription. So, we had to go back to the hospital to get them rewritten on two pages.
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When we went back to the pharmacy with the new prescription, we discovered that the doc had scrawled his prescriber number so illegibly that the pharmacist could not read it. So, the pharmacy had to phone the hospital to clarify the number.
It added half an hour of fucking around before I could go home, but that was the only thing about my treatment that I could complain about.
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